


Dark Paradise

by loveatthirdsight



Category: Gintama
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Light BDSM, Seduction, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1988877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveatthirdsight/pseuds/loveatthirdsight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruin her. Burn her. Break her. The echoes of destruction enter his mind like a sonnet waiting to be composed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The skirmish between the Harusame Space Pirates and the lone chief of the Thousand Blooms doesn't last long. The woman across from him had keeled over valiantly after murdering six of his men, cuts and bruises forming on her lone body.

It wasn't supposed to be violent - his mercenary ship had only wanted to stop at Yoshiwara for a while, to meet up with potential investors - investors who were interested in government turmoil, and wanted the serious means to achieve it. Kamui was Yoshiwara's overlord, and he had expected a peaceful exchange, far from paramilitary soldiers who came as swift as night. Not this.

Takasugi walked towards her; his men are cautious and issue warnings. He sends them back. They are disposable tools.

He is always intrigued by foolish people - the sorts that would go headstrong into a situation where there was no possible way out. This woman is one such example. He brings his sword out, to slash her throat and to end her suffering.

And then he stands over her.

There are no fatal wounds; her training has served her well. Instead it is the small things that have incapacitated her - nicks, bruises, but there are too many for her to stand up. His men are damned incompetent, he thinks. Swords are too cumbersome for men who have no memory of war; the elegance of Zura's swordsmanship and the quick improvisation of Gintoki's movements are much too high of a standard to live up to these days. He can see how kunai with proper mastery would provide a faster and more clean way of killing.

His mouth bit thoughtfully on his pipe, one of his few indulgences. Their eyes lock - his green, hers a striking ultraviolet. Her pupils dilate and her wrist twitches as if she was able to throw another kunai once more, but eventually the blood seeps out of her black kimono. She is dying.

He finally turns away from her. "Bansai."

"Sir?"

"We're leaving. Tell our investors to meet us in space - away from potential intruders." As an afterthought, he added, "And perhaps you might find someone to patch her up?"

Bansai raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be more prudent to, ah,  _eliminate_  her? She's an eyewitness to our ship."

"This is Yoshiwara; it won't matter. The Shogun has washed his hands of this city. What do you hear in her song? Tell me."

The man cocked his head sideways. "A turbulent storm of rock and roll with an old ballade in the background. Strong - beautiful - powerful. It's a beautiful melody."

Takasugi smirked. "So perhaps I shall chalk this up to a whim, then."

"Perhaps," Bansai allowed.

-x-

Tsukuyo forces herself to forget about the mysterious stranger; it's easy enough at first after her subordinate finds her lying in an abandoned street and gently drags her body to be bandaged. There's patrols and paperwork and the concerns of prostitutes to be dealt with. But when she receives the first watch in the dark alleys of Yoshiwara, a paranoia descends again, the dark thoughts clouding her mind once more.

Tsukuyo has experienced near-death several times, but nothing had clinched fear in her as much as staring into the eyes of that man. Jiraia was one thing, Hosen another, but this man was an unquantified factor. Prior behaviors could be observed, predicted. Not unknown factors.

She shook her head. It would be better to ignore such dreadful thoughts. 

The snow fell upon Yoshiwara in thick layers. It was rare in the city to have such weather; and as such there were less patrons walking around the brothels and tea shops at the time when it was supposed to be the busiest.

Tsukuyo herself was not coping well with the climate change. She was starting to have difficulty breathing, and for once she had put the pipe away in her room. Shivering in the unexpected cold, she bunched her robes even closer to her slim body. Yoshiwara had never seen snow before this winter came, and while it was bewitching and lovely, it was also inconvenient for her to patrol the city.

Suddenly one of her subordinates appeared to her and bowed. "Boss. Someone requested you."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know who he is, but he wanted to be in the company of the strongest woman I could find. I said that you weren't available, so I suggested that perhaps he would enjoy the company of Hinowa-sama more. Yet, he declined and wished to see the famed Courtesan of Death. He paid twice as much as it would cost to see her."

Tsukuyo blanched at the absurd sum of money. Who was this obviously wealthy patron who had requested her company?

"… Has he come here before?"

Her subordinate shook her head. "I don't know. But I think he is an acquaintance of Kamui-sama."

Shivers ran up her spine. Tsukuyo thanked her subordinate before heading home in a hurry to change into her courtesan costume. She did not fail to slip an extra kunai under her sleeve.

She slid the door to perhaps one of the most opulent rooms that Yoshiwara had to offer. She bowed and spoke quietly, but firmly. "Tsukuyo, at your service."

A mysterious figure was sitting at the edge of a window, leg propped up with a shamisen on his lap.

"Delighted to meet you," Takasugi Shinsuke says, smiling widely.


	2. Chapter 2

She stood still, paralyzed with fear as he looked up at her expectantly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, though it was a rhetorical question.

"Why are you here?" she asked, her voice trembling. The kunai from her sleeve is still there to reassure her that she can make a quick escape if she needs to.

"Surely a man, for whatever price, may be with a woman of his choice in this city." Takasugi stood up, walking towards her. "Even the legendary Hinowa cannot turn down the overlord of Yoshiwara."

Kamui's orders, though rarely given and bestowed mostly in terms of salutatory neglect, were those of absolute power. She had already seen the damage from her troops and a mixture of anger and hatred clouds her heart momentarily. Those were  _her_  girls who had been murdered in cold blood just for the simple reason that they had been deemed weak.

Her breath hitches in her throat. "What do you want?"

"For now? Only the pleasure of your company."

His hand suddenly reaches out, lifting her chin with his index finger. She is frozen, eyes widening at this sudden indiscretion, breaking away by taking one step forward. "I don't know your name."

"Shinsuke. And yours?"

Her eyes dart sideways. "Tsu... Tsukuyo."

He finds it amusing that she is trying to reassure herself of escaping. He supposed it was only natural. Perhaps she recognized his name already, even in the cesspool they call Yoshiwara with their dingy grit underneath the gilded cage of whores and courtesans. He doesn't give a damn either way - whatever this woman could do to him, he's not afraid of her.

"Very well then," he said, and he takes her hand - the one without the knife - and kisses the back of it, light as air. Her eyes grow bigger and he can see that she's trying to process what is happening to her. He chuckles because she's so damn easy to understand.

"Take care, Tsukuyo," he says, and slips outside the door, leaving her behind.

-x-

Edo is not much different from Yoshiwara; the only change being that up here there are more and less rules. More, because the Shinsengumi actually has the jurisdiction under the law of the Shogun to kill people if they deem it appropriate. Less, because the city is a lot bigger than Yoshiwara and it's impossible to catch everyone who commits a crime.

Tsukuyo goes up to Edo Bank. Checks her deposit bank and nearly fumbles with her debit card once she sees how much is in her account.

She's never had earned so much just for a few minutes of... whatever it was. She didn't pour him a drink. No sex. No kissing either, though she is relieved that all of those three things haven't happened. She could still feel the sensation of his fingers on her chin. They were surprisingly warm for such a man with a disdainful look in his eyes. And suddenly the chills and the goosebumps come back in full force.

She wants to know more. Who this mysterious guy is, what kind of power he holds, why he chose to not kill her, why he spent so much money on someone worthless like her.

For some reason it makes her uneasy. A no good man like Gintoki pays her half as much attention, and now she's got another man to worry about in Yoshiwara. On top of it he's connected to Kamui, and she knows that anyone connected to the Harusame has the power to destroy her city if she's not careful.

When she walks outside, a little dejected at this new revelation, she lights up her pipe real quick. Smoking calms her down, lets her think more clearly.

All that is thrown out the window when she bumps into someone. A man in a purple yukata and a straw hat grins slyly as she turns her head to apologize only for it to be cut off shortly from her sudden paralysis.

"So we meet again."

Her instincts are so quick to shift into a defensive, kill or be killed stance that even he is impressed. With a flash of silver her two hands wield tanto swords out of nowhere, ready to slice and maim at her whim.

"Stop following me," she growls.

"I wasn't," he said, and he laughs at her mockingly. "The Shogun is coming out tonight."

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

"Wait and see," he replies.


	3. Chapter 3

-x-

She wonders why she doesn't just kill him. Wonders why she doesn't throw that kunai and call it a day, because there is no doubt that something bad is going to happen. There are some things that you don't question, and whoever this man is - Shinsuke, if that's really his name in the first place - he spells trouble.

And he's not a good guy. She's certain of that. She's lived a long enough life to know that people like him are a little insane. He walks around in broad daylight with a metal sword by his side as if he doesn't give a damn. As if he thinks he can get away with it. He's not crass enough to be a gang member; something tells her that he's a  _lot_  more than that.

She watches him go after he tells her to wait for the spectacle that will take place tonight in Edo. She is simultaneously relieved and disappointed that nothing else happens between the two of them.

Tsukuyo doesn't have any ties of loyalty to the Bakufu. In the realm of Yoshiwara, she's seen all sorts of Amanto and human politicians alike. What matters to her is that the women of the city are kept free from harm as they do their business in the red light district. That takes priority over risking herself to save the Shogun and his sister, though that's not to say she doesn't like them. She just places certain duties over things that aren't in her jurisdiction. After all, that's why the Shinsengumi exists: to protect the royal family in times where they finally emerge from their palace. She isn't going to interfere with Shinsuke's plan.

A darker part of her wants to see what he can really achieve. After all, she's intrigued. She goes home back to Yoshiwara, aimlessly chats with Hinowa and Seita at the end of her patrol shift before sitting in bed in her undergarments. Her blonde hair is brushed down and she's having one final smoke before she goes to sleep.

She wonders if he's seeing the same moon as her right now. Then she snuffs the ash out and slips inside her futon.

-x-

The newspaper says there's been an incident two weeks later. Says the Shogun's military strategist has been kidnapped on some spaceship beyond Earth's atmosphere. The Shinsengumi's best agents are on the hunt. They won't clarify who's responsible for the mess but Tsukuyo knows better. Her expression darkens and she knows that the newspapers have postponed the news as best as they can, but in the age of post Amanto technology, it can't be hidden forever. One of the top leaders in the country has gone missing.

She puts two and two together and hopes that he never comes back to Yoshiwara again.

And yet, another part of her knows it's a lie.

-x-

He sends her a letter to meet him at the docks of Edo, where the ships have cast their anchors. She intends on taking him down; if he's a threat to the Shogun then it's best if they sever whatever is tying them together.

She walks around the area before he appears behind her.

"Good evening," he says, blowing out the smoke from his pipe.

She is fully armed with her sharpest kunai. He knows this but still comes alone, by himself. She is his moon, a dim light at the end of the tunnel.

"What did you want from me?" she asks.

"The pleasure of your company," he replies, just like the time he did back in the opulent room of the Yoshiwaran palace.

"I should kill you."

"But you won't," he said easily. He doesn't flinch when she throws a kunai a millimeter away from his bandaged head. A strand of his hair falls neatly on his foot and all he can do is admire her precision.

"Ah, Tsukuyo, Tsukuyo, don't you understand?" he asks, smiling as if what she does amuses him. Walking closer to her, she panics at the sight of him.

"Get away from me!" she yells. But he comes closer, unafraid and bold. Wildly she slashes the kunai in front of her, taking steps back but his strides are longer than hers and he catches up to her in seconds. Like lightning his hands twist her wrists, clamping them down before she can react and his knee jams her waist so that she is temporarily paralyzed, pinned helplessly to the wall of a warehouse. The kunai slips from her fingers, falling to the ground with an empty clang.

She struggles to escape but the seconds of pain is too much to ignore. Swallowing, she blinks rapidly to get rid of the stars in her eyes. She realizes that he must have done something to her head too - otherwise she wouldn't be feeling so dizzy.

 _Fuck_ , she thinks.  _Fuck fuck fuck_  -

But then he stops moving, except to whisper silkily in her ear, "I want you. That's all I'm asking for."

Her breath momentarily stalls at the sight of this beautiful man, so close to her. But she has resisted the call of men for so long that refusing the attentions of another becomes remarkably easy.

"What if I say no?" she retorts.

"You won't," he said quietly. As quickly as he incapacitates her, he lets go of her entirely. "I'll be seeing you the next full moon. Come dressed in red."

He escapes while she struggles to run after him. But he's already dropped a smoke bomb, and when it clears up it's like he's never been here in the first place.

-x-

It's her hands, he decides. They are calloused but they are incredibly nimble, fetching kunai or her sword in the blink of her eye without her needing to look down. It is all instinct, just like him with a sword. No doubts to be had, just trust in a carefully fashioned piece of metal.

Matako's hands aren't the same. Pistols are different. Shooting a gun doesn't involve the same amount of skill that swords or kunai holds. There is power and skill and the weight of the hand totally determining the precision of such weapons.

He waits in one of Yoshiwara's most opulent rooms this time, smoking his pipe, carelessly dripping ash on the luxurious carpet because he can, waiting for her.

This time she dresses in a bright red kimono, brilliant to behold like the scarlet ibis against the setting sun. For a moment he is reminded that the image of the  _Shingami Dayuu_  is almost as glorious as the scroll paintings Shoyou used to hang up in the walls of his private library.

A slight thrill runs through his blood. Ruin her. Burn her. Break her. The echoes of destruction enter his mind like a sonnet waiting to be composed.

"My lord - " Her head bows down to the ground, exposing her neck to him. She has surrendered her will to him.

"I don't know what you want with me," she whispers. "But leave Yoshiwara the way it is. Please."

If he didn't find her so beautiful he might have found it almost disappointing. But instead new possibilities are opening up. "Allow my men free reign in your city," he suggests, setting down his pipe. "Oh, and I'd like to be able to see you anytime I want."

"Why?" she asked. "Is this to avenge your men I've killed?"

He laughs, and the sound is as pleasant as nails scraping on a blackboard. "I don't give a damn about my men," he said. Without further ado, he pushes her to the futon. "This is what  _I_  want," he says, and points a kunai to her neck.

-x-


	4. Chapter 4

-x-

Everybody has something that makes them strange.

For Gintoki, it's his sugar fix. Sacchan has her masochism. Hinowa has her... delusions.

It stood to reason that she lets herself be stupid for Shinsuke after a lifetime of selflessness. There's a certain thrill in being chased by a man this dangerous. When she's next to him, she can forget that her love will go unrequited. With him in bed, she can forget her duties and honor that ties her to Yoshiwara.

After all, it's nothing special when a woman has to exchange her body for something in return. It won't be the first or the last time in this city. And yet, something screams out organically for him.

He won't kill her.

In return, she won't kill him.

At first, she freezes, and her heart is beating too fast until he slowly reaches out for the sash of her kimono. He moves accordingly, and tears the beautiful fabric into pieces with her kunai.

An unspeakable vow has already been made between the two of them. He ties a strip of cloth around her eyes and she lets him because the alternative of Yoshiwara burning down in flames is something she cannot allow as the guardian of this city. It has already happened once and she lost things she could never get back.

He yanks out the hairpin from her head and relishes her wince of pain. He wonders what sort of person could have scarred that pretty little face of hers. Whomever it is, they're probably just as fucked up as he is.

He tells Tsukuyo to put her hands out. Like an obedient doll, she acquiesces with a numb resignation. This is happening; she is naked, vulnerable, away from any sort of weapons, blinded, and in front of the most dangerous man she can think of. The final nail in the coffin resounds when he securely binds her wrists together and pushes her arms above her back.

To her surprise, he doesn't disappoint, with one searing kiss on her neck. He sinks his teeth in and the delicious pain spreads throughout her entire body.

His hands roam freely, he doesn't miss a single inch of her supple skin. He cups her breast and willingly she lets out a moan.

"Good girl," he says. In the dark, her nerves are on fire, hypersensitive to his every touch.

Her back arches slightly when he finally kisses her on the mouth, and his lips taste like ash - but she welcomes it more then he expected. He pulls back and then leans in deeper, grinding his hips into hers.

"So even the Courtesan of Death has needs," he mutters softly, shedding his yukata and setting it aside. "How... unexpected."

His fingers cleverly slip down to a place that makes her beg for more. Slowly but surely he gradually maps out her pleasure points and she is at his mercy, quivering helplessly under him, his voice in her ears and his hands on her body.

When he slides inside of her heated core, she feels full and tight to the brim. A hand steadily grips her hair, and ordinarily, it'd be painful but this is nothing short of exhilarating to her, knowing she's getting fucked like this. His stream of obscenities do nothing except to excite her.

He's not a gentle lover by any stretch of the imagination. In just a matter of minutes the famed Shinigami Dayuu has been degraded into a cheap two-bit whore, reduced to a simplistic flesh vessel for the pleasure of a man who has a strange fixation on  _her_  of all people.

She loves it all the same.

Nothing is off-limits. She screams his name when he thumbs her clit in perfect tempo to his thrusts. He clamps his hand over her mouth, driving her even more insane by muffling her moans. It was sweet agony, her inability to touch him, but becoming utterly dominated like this was still pleasurable in its own way.

Her climax catches her off guard, and suddenly all she can do is to feel, not think - feel how her insides are bristling with jolts of pleasure; how her lower body contracts once, then twice, and thrice.

She moans and shudders, and moans some more into the palm of Shinsuke's hand before she falls off the peak, descending into rational thought again.

It's his cue to thrust even faster, and he finally lets go of her mouth, fixing both hands on her waist so that he can angle himself in a way that'll let him come as quickly as possible. All pretenses aside, he's intent on finishing it his way now that she's been satiated. And for how hard he's pounding her, she is surprised at how much it doesn't hurt. The sheets are disarrayed with how hard he's pushed in her into bed, and he comes with a groan. A wetness drips out of her, languid and lazy when he pulls himself away from her.

She hears him getting dressed. Then he picks up a kunai; her body goes rigid before he cuts away the fabric that binds her wrists together. He gently unties the blindfold, the dim light making little difference to her eyes.

Shinsuke lights up his pipe. Exhales, inhales, exhales. He tosses her his shawl so that she won't go home naked, though truthfully that's the least of her concerns.

There aren't any words to be exchanged between the two of them. Not now, and not back then either. She says nothing. He leaves the room with nothing but the smell of sex and smoke that she knows will be gone tomorrow in this very room.

-x-

Hijikata pressed the doorbell on the Yorozuya's front door and scowls when he sees Gintoki coming out, yawning with his hand in his permy hair.

"Damn cops, don't you have a job to do this hour of day?" is the first thing that comes out that man's mouth, but the issue that Hijikata is thinking of is too serious that he ignores the insinuation.

"Shut up. I wanted to talk to you about something in private."

"Oh, really? Something scandalous, huh? Finally got into trouble for snorting up mayonnaise?"

-x-

Eventually they end up in Battle Royale, a nice café where Gintoki promptly demands Hijikata to purchase him four strawberry parfaits. Hijikata buys him three.

"There's rumors that Takasugi Shinsuke has a lover in Yoshiwara." Hijikata taps out a cigarette from the box, and lights it up. Gintoki pauses, mouth full of syrup.

"So why should I care?"

"You know half of Edo," Hijikata says. "I need a lead."

"I don't keep tabs on terrorists," Gintoki replies testily.

"Please," Hijikata says, frustration beginning to build. It's humiliating that he's having to ask this jerk for help, but he's still the Shiroyasha. He's done his own research, and he knows that Gintoki, for all his nonchalance as an unemployed loser, still has connections that run deeper than the Shinsengumi's.

"Oh, has the Demon Vice-Commander finally bowing his head to me?" Gintoki asks, grinning. "Look, I got nothing. I know jack shit about what that guy is doing and I don't care, either. But I do know this lady who knows Yoshiwara inside and out. If there's anyone who would know, it'd be her."

"A woman... ?" Hijikata is skeptical. "You're saying that I'll have to ask a  _prostitute_  for help?"

"God, you're so..." Gintoki is half amused and half exasperated. "... She's not one of those, but who cares if she is?" He pops a strawberry into his mouth. "Anyways, Tsukuyo might be able to help you out. Maybe she'll even help you get laid."

"What are you insinuating, you permed asshole?" Hijikata yells, and instantly every eye in the restaurant turns on him. Gintoki, unfazed, says, "Don't worry everyone, I'm just trying my best to have a civilized conversation with a tax robber." The diners laugh and turn to their plates; Hijikata is incensed but can't say anything in return. Taking deep breaths, he taps the ash off his cigarette.

"Like I said, if there's one person who knows who's fucking who - oh for God's sake, stop blushing - it'd be her. She's the guardian of that city."

"How do I find her?"

"Ask for the Courtesan of Death. She'll come."

-x-


	5. Chapter 5

-x-

When she gets home, she fills the tub with hot water. There are bruises on her side where he gripped her at the waist so tightly, but for some reason it's not as painful as the injuries she gets from work sometimes. Sinking into the water, it's only now that she realizes how fucked up she is.

She just slept with a fucking terrorist. And not just any terrorist,  _the_  terrorist that could destroy the world and the foundation of how she lived. One of her hands touch the side of her neck and she winces. Funny how pain could be pleasurable in some moments and than linger around as an unpleasant reminder.

The next morning she goes to a chemist and asks for the after morning pill. It's not embarrassing - every courtesan at one point or another has requested such things and she swallows it down, washing away the bitter taste with a glass of water. The physician seeing her is concerned, because she's seen Tsukuyo injured before and assumes that Tsukuyo is also here for other concerns.

"Hon, don't push yourself - " and idly Tsukuyo wonders if the physician can see the hickeys on her neck, " - it's good to have fun in a while, Tsukuyo-san, but don't hurt yourself, aight?" The old woman hands her a cup of tea. "You've been looking fevered lately."

"... Yeah," is what Tsukuyo finally says. It's the long hours of pulling late shifts and worrying if Takasugi Shinsuke is going to set fire on everything she loves while simultaneously holding a fucked up attraction to someone she wouldn't have classified as even possible before Gintoki came into her life.

"Well, you need to get some rest. It's not healthy for a woman like you to be out there fighting so hard." Tsukuyo looks up and for both of their sakes lies, saying she'll get around to it today.

Later, Hinowa says someone's dropped off a letter, and it's sick - downright sick, of how joyful she is to see Takasugi's elegant writing on paper, asking her to meet him at one of the tea houses tomorrow night.

He visits her the night after that, and the one after that, and the one after that. Their meetings have been those of fevered love-making, if anyone could call it that. In reality it is madness and confusion, made up of forbidden pleasure. Their affair, provided by the darkness of Yoshiwara, forms so neatly and succinctly that both of them are drunk on momentary happiness, gorging on bliss while knowing all good things must come to an end.

He tells her things sometimes.

"I used to have a master once. His name was Shoyou."

She chokes on her smoke as soon as she recognizes the name. When her throat clears it out she admits that she, too, had a master by the name of Jiraia.

In the stillness of the night, when all is dark and they cannot see each other's faces, they tell each other things that have nothing to do with desire or lust. Favorite seasons, childhood memories, their dreams from a long time ago.

It's this - the small conversations, the secrets - that allows her to deny that whatever is holding them together is built on a house of cards.

But then again, Tsukuyo has grown up in Yoshiwara. She has spent years seeing battered courtesans destroyed by affairs of this nature. So she knows that even this cannot last forever.

-x-

The man is deeply uncomfortable even though he is dressed casually outside of his Shinsengumi uniform. Attractive, handsome men like him are always desired by the courtesans, it's something that's never changed even before the liberation of Yoshiwara. With eyes of young girls on him, he's flustered. He's not in control of the situation.

Tsukuyo sighs and leads him to a more private room in town, where she sits patiently, her pipe in mouth, legs tucked in under her lap.

"What can I do for you today, Hijikata-san?"

"Ah, well - Gintoki told me to ask you for help, since you keep an eye on this town."

"The Shinsengumi don't have any jurisdiction here," she reminds him softly.

"I understand that, but I already made a request to the Shogun himself to pursue what we believe is a threat to the country." Hijikata crosses his legs and lights up a cigarette.

A prickle of dread breaks out on her neck. "... A threat?" she repeats cautiously.

"Yes. I suppose you wouldn't know who Takasugi Shinsuke is, would you?"

"I mighta have heard of him somewhere," she says and slips her hands inside her longer sleeve so that Hijikata won't see she's trembling.

"Well, he's one of the most dangerous terrorists in Japan." Hijikata exhales, lowering his fingers from his mouth. "He's had a history of burning down government buildings and assassinating our top officials. The problem is, we haven't been able to catch him since he's very well connected at the top. They'd rather hush it up than to order a direct manhunt."

Tsukuyo's lungs start to constrict. She lowers her eyes, and murmurs, "I see."

"One of my men reported seeing a suspicious mercenary ship down here, and we confirmed that the Kiheitai has made contact at least once in your city." She knows Hijikata is scrutinizing her carefully, and it takes all her willpower to gaze at him calmly, as if she is not involved in this, as if she is not a lover to the enemy.

"With your permission... if at any time you knew his whereabouts, do you think you could give me a call?" The man's eyes seem too intelligent for her to relax. He passes her a card with his number on it.

She doesn't pick it up right away.

"... One of the aspects that attract men ta come here is the fact that we won't arrest them for political subterfuge," Tsukuyo says slowly, which is not a complete lie.

"Tsukuyo-san, this is no petty criminal we're talking about." Hijikata flicks some ash away from the table. She watches it pile onto an ashtray. "I wouldn't waste my time on thieves or drug dealers in this sort of place, so far from Edo."

She doesn't know what to say. But he picks up on her reluctance and adds, "I'm not going to ask for your help. My men are here on their own, and they know the risks of this operation. But this isn't our territory. I don't want to inflict unnecessary damage."

"I'm not goin' to allow a rampage," she said, a little uneasily. "I'm here ta protect the women."

"I understand that. But I'm only using my top men. Very skilled men, some whom I would trust with my own life." Hijikata's eyes narrow, as if he's suspecting that she knows more than she lets on. "It's going to be a very small group of us. It will be discreet."

"I see," she says. "Well, in that case - "

"I've already set up watchmen," he interrupts. "All around the place. But I figured I'd go to you first, just to see if you knew any more than I did."

"How far have you gotten?" she asks.

"So far?" Hijikata sighed. "We think one of the Shogun's best men is dead."

Tsukuyo closes her eyes and shakes her head. "Unbelievable." But inwardly she is shaking. She has chosen to play with fire in the first place. The consequences loom ahead - slowly, but surely. Finally she promises Hijikata she'll keep her eyes open. He nods and doesn't push for more - most people try to stay out of trouble, not get involved in it.

-x-

In the end, she remembers that nobody can afford to give her happiness.

She tells Hijikata the address of the inn that Takasugi was supposed to meet her that night. Hijikata thanks her, and she hangs up the phone. Seita and Hinowa rush out when they hear her break down in sobs in the middle of their kitchen.

Hinowa's arms aren't enough to console her. They aren't enough to stop her tears. Nothing was ever good enough.

-x-


	6. Chapter 6

-x-

There are signs. When he picks up the telephone and dials her number, it isn't Tsukuyo who picks up, it's another woman in the house. The scent of the Shinsengumi dogs lurk nearby. He picks up his pipe, lights it up, and asks Kamui to come with him to the inn tonight.

He doesn't remember the last time he was fixated on a woman. Idly, the memory of him and Gintoki fighting over the same prostitute once upon a time, years and years ago, flitters into his head. Amusement quickly follows when he remembers that his past self had been too frightened to do anything more than to sip his alcohol in silence.

Things are different now. The hunger from physical lust could be satiated by other people. He knew he jeopardized things when he saw her more than once. But something had truly resonated with him the day he had found her almost dead.

Alone, not afraid to die. Having to bear a weight on her shoulders. The lone wolf of a city.

He remembers a time where he hid himself from everyone else. Man of an army of a failing cause. Nowadays he doesn't give a damn. The only thing he cares about is making sure the world is going to burn into flames. When that day comes, he'll sit on top of a mountain and have one final smoke. He'll enjoy the heat and the ash and the screams of the people who are dying. And then he'll throw himself off that mountain the way he should have done the day Shoyou-sensei died.

It's that reasoning that makes him push her around. Of course he's curious about righteous people like her. He wants to know if people like Tsukuyo ever break. So he pries into her, asks her about her past in the dark. The lull of the night has always been soothing for people like them. He once imagined playing a shamisen to her and then breaking her neck.

Every time they meet, there's a moment where he thinks he could do it. Just one, painless swipe to her neck, right after she comes - now that would be ideal. Or maybe he could stab her in the side when she falls asleep next to his side, right after she runs a hand through his hair. After all, he could kill her. And he's incapacitated her before. She's fast - he's faster.

But he doesn't do it.

He can categorize the type of women he encounters in neat slots - there are whores and bimbos, geeks, harpies, bitches, broads.

Tsukuyo, on the other hand, is a rare find. Here is a woman of exceptional, fine spun beauty, but she is woefully unaware of it. She smokes, wears high heels, dedicates her life to this stinking cesspool of lust, gives up on all hope of true love, but admits her biggest fears to a state sanctioned criminal.

Her life has absolutely no significance to her whatsoever. And that's something they both have in common. There are goals. Vague goals, maybe not even achievable ones to have. But in retrospect, they don't give a shit whether they're dead or alive. If in the meantime a kunai pierces her heart, and Gintoki stabs his chest, it won't matter.

Nothing mattered in the end, really.

 _It's my fault for wanting the things that I can't have._ That's his final thought before Hijikata bursts into the room.

-x-

She pretends that when she patrols the west side of the city, that she is not secretly hoping that he will have picked up on the signs. It is wrong and sick and twisted, to love such a man, and the shame burns through her veins.

But by the grace of God, fate allows her see him under the guise of moonlight, bloody and mangled, and his lone green eye moves to catch hers. Someone else is with him. Her kunai are ready to be thrown at a moment's notice.

"Kamui, go to the ship," he orders, though his voice is surprisingly mild for how terrifying he looks.

There are police sirens in the background. Tsukuyo's hand trembles. All she can do is to look at him, letting his image sear into her brain. In another life, they could have been more. More than just his muse, more than a temporary escape.

And she realizes she is weak in this moment when she says, "I'm sorry."

There is no anger in his voice when he replies softly, "Don't be. It's my fault for wanting things I can't have."

The instantaneous thrust of metal in between her ribs is short and precise. He withdraws his sword, flicking away her blood, and sheathes it back.

Before he leaves, he presses one kiss into her lovely hair before turning away. He doesn't look back. It's the first time in more than a decade that he can't bear to look back at the mess he's made.

-x-


	7. Chapter 7

-x-

In the end, he left her the same way he found her. On her back, heaving from the wounds as she bled into the ground. And now she's crying because it hurts, it all fucking hurts, inside and outside and she can feel the hot tears dripping down her cheeks as her vision blurs.

Hijikata runs up to her and she's a mess. He calmly assesses the situation, sees that her stomach's been punctured and calls for someone to pick her up and transfer to a nearby hospital. All the while, she is crying so fucking hard that she can't see jack shit. Her hand is clasped over the wound, stopping the blood but it's seeping outside of her palms, and everything has gone out of control.

"O-oi, Tsukuyo, it's going to be alright." Someone's talking to her. And picking her up. She doesn't care.

Shinsuke's parting kiss is still warm in her hair. She doesn't understand why he didn't look back - for a week, seven whole days, she had been perfectly willing to betray her city for him. In the end, he gutted her like a fish so that she wouldn't follow him into the dark. Instead, another man is running in his direction to kill her lover, her oasis in a dark paradise.

"Shhh," says whomever is holding her. Their arms are trembling. She stops, breathes, and blinks before realizing that Gintoki is the person who's chosen to pick her up, even if his clothes are getting stained from her blood.

He's crying. Not sobbing - but there are tears from his eyes too.

"He did this to you, didn't he?" he whispers brokenly into her ears. "I'll kill him. That rotten, evil, son of a bitch..."

She blacks out after he says such things, and descends into hell.

-x-

Hinowa places her cool palm over Tsukuyo's forehead as the woman sleeps in the hospital bed.

"Mom, is she gonna be all right?" Seita asked, tugging on the courtesan's sleeve.

"It was a clean wound. Not fatal," Hinowa says, reassuring the boy with steady hand on his little shoulder.

Still, she hands Seita a wad of cash and tells him to get her a coffee from the lobby. When her son goes away, she places both her hands over eyes and weeps.

She has lost too many goddamn things over the past few years. This isn't the first time that she's seen Tsukuyo admitted to the hospital before. The nature of her job means that she's exposed to dangerous situations everyday. The problem isn't that Tsukuyo isn't tough enough. It's that Tsukuyo is beautiful. Beautiful things don't last long in a city like Yoshiwara. They get burned, torn, or ripped to shreds. After all, Hinowa would know. She's still bitter that she can't walk with her own two legs.

Someone's done this to her little moon, her little doe bird. A jealous lover - or a spiteful one? Hinowa doesn't know, doesn't even care, all she knows is that before they found her, Tsukuyo had been crying over something but wouldn't tell anyone exactly why.

And now this is how she ends up, hours later: in a hospital bed. No explanation. The police had said something about a terrorist - Takasugi Shinsuke - but those are all details that don't matter. Hinowa is just plain hurt that Tsukuyo never told her what was burdening her mind, even though that's the way how their relationship has operated for over two decades now.

Because in the end, she saw everything. The cuts on her neck, hidden beneath a scarf. The hot water in the bath, the pills taken from the chemist to stymie pregnancy. She had been stunned to discover those in the bathroom cabinet, but had quietly placed them back, trusting that Tsukuyo knew exactly what she had gotten herself into.

She just didn't expect this.

All Hinowa can do is to cry, cry some more, and pretend that she's not worried sick every time Tsukuyo doesn't talk to her.

-x-

Hijikata sighs. "And in the end, he got away. Goddamn those Amanto bastards."

Gintoki rubs his eyes, dead tired.

"Hey, thanks for your help," the policemen says. He pushes an envelope full of money to the samurai, and Gintoki pockets it, exhausted.

Both of them haven't slept in over twenty four hours. The adrenaline that's fueled both of their pursuits have worn off long ago, and even the caffeine pills aren't helping anymore.

"At least he won't be coming back to Yoshiwara anymore," Hijikata muttered, more to himself than anything else. "But goddamn. Goddamn!" He lights up a cigarette.

"He's been living that life for years," Gintoki replies. "Don't expect to catch him so soon. I'm gonna go get some sleep."

"All right." They're not arguing with each other because disappointment has a funny way of sapping out the energy from the two of them. Hijikata's disappointed because he's staked a lot of the Shinsengumi's pride and honor over this, and yet they've caught only two people whom are suspected to be grunt workers.

He visits Tsukuyo later in the hospital, with his two kids in tow. Kagura wails and cries at the sight of an injured Tsukuyo. She's always adored the older woman - hell, wasn't she the first one to call her Tsukki? Gintoki can't look at her for too long or else he'll break down into pieces too. Shinpachi is busy expressing his condolences to Hinowa and Seita, who are quietly sitting next to the woman's bed.

He can't stand being around emotional people, so he goes outside the room, and sits on a bench near the vending machine where it's nice and cool.

It's been a long time since he's seen someone like that hurt as badly as she was. Something had snapped intrinsically inside of him. The closest he'd gotten to resurfacing the Shiroyasha in months.

He's not stupid. Even if she won't admit it, it's obvious who was responsible for her wounds. The real question is, exactly  _why_  was she sobbing so hard that night that he found her? He's seen her stabbed before, moons ago, back when he met Jiraia for the first time. Tsukuyo wasn't the type of woman to cry simply from flesh wounds.

On further thought, maybe he doesn't want to know. Maybe the truth would fuck him up even more, and then he'd really go out of control. It's not something he'd think Tsukuyo would ever tell, and it's not his place to find out. He's got secrets of his own, and she's got hers.

-x-

She dreams of Shinsuke and his lips on hers. Then she wakes up in a world of hurt and remembers exactly how he broke her heart and other things too.

Finally she thinks -  _Enough_. She's been stupid for too long. She's made people cry over her and if there's something that she can't stand, it is precisely the image of Hinowa with tears in her eyes.

She mentions the affair briefly one day, when the two are sitting on the rooftop overlooking the city of Yoshiwara. She remembers a story that Shinsuke told her about birds. One flies off into the Yoshiwaran sky and she says that he - just another man, in her own words - found a dead bird. It'd been the first time he encountered the loss of life. His teacher had told him it was okay to cry, and so he did. The second time he cried was when he saw his sensei's head resting on the cold winter ground of a snowy evening.

Hinowa pauses, knowing it's not just another simple story passing for the sake of frivolity. Tsukuyo doesn't  _do_  small talk, she speaks with her fists and frowns and the pointy toe of her boot.

"So it's over, then?"

"Yeah." The woman breathes out smoke. Hinowa isn't satisfied yet. Her hand reaches out for her little sister's, and it is with a rare sort of despondency when she says, fiercely -

"Find someone who can be with you, without having to hurt you. You deserve that much."

Tsukuyo is still looking at the setting sun. "I've already fallen in love twice. The first one won't ever love me back. The second one slit my stomach into two."

-x-

Despite her gloomy predictions, life goes back to normal fairly quickly after she recovers from her injuries. Patrols are made, recruits are hired, and crime enforcement proceeds steadily as usual.

Gintoki comes back, says that Hinowa hired him for a few jobs here and there. Tsukuyo doesn't really believe him, but sits next to him anyway and watches him play a round of pachinko on her break. She's always had a soft spot for guys like Gintoki - the type that talks big all the time, but never means half the things he says.

"You should come over to my place sometime. I think the old lady's gonna take us out for  _sukiyaki_  tonight."

"Can't. I got work."

"Jesus  _Christ_ ," he says, shaking his head. "Worth a try though. I was counting on impressing those old hags, bringing along someone cute like you."

She smiles. A year ago, she would have probably kicked him in the ass, but now she knows better. Gintoki's like that to everyone. She's nothing special.

"Well, if you change your mind around six o'clock, here's the address." He asks for a pen and scribbles the name of the restaurant on her palm. She blinks, surprised at the sudden physical contact.

An hour later, she decides to come anyway. Just to check it out. Not that she wants to seriously hang out, because she's not  _that_  lame -

Who is she kidding? Some company would be good. She's been alone for far too long. When she gets to restaurant, Gintoki waves her over.

His kids are there, and so are Tama, Otose, and Catherine. They invite her over, happy to see Gintoki with someone his own age that isn't a smelly old drunk or just flat out bizarre. The conversation quickly turns vulgar. They drag out embarrassing moments, intent on humiliating the other parties, and even though they've heard it all, Tsukuyo hasn't, so it's another reason to tell it all over again. At the end she's laughing so damn hard she almost chokes on her food. And they stay there for hours.

All the while Gintoki is next to her, keeping her steady company, quietly depositing pieces of meat on her plate before Kagura can steal them away from the table. And she realizes that all her old feelings for him are still there, kind of like a latent existence.

It's too bad she won't act on them. It's a lot easier to  _be_  in love than to actually extend it.

-x-

Eventually, Otose comes up with the brilliant proposition of taking the entire party to a karaoke bar, and Kagura jumps up, yelling "Ole! Ole! Sambaaaaaa!" in a poor imitation of Kato-ken on TV. Gintoki and her are the only ones left at the table. The bill, thankfully, has already been paid. She gets up, ostensibly to leave. Gintoki follows her to the door, and thanks her for coming.

She chuckles. "No. I should be the one thanking ya for invitin' me over, Gintoki."

His hand scratches the back of his head. "Well, it's not a big deal. You just seemed... uh... "

"Lonely?"

"Yeah. Kinda. After that incident, y'know?"

Tsukuyo laughs. "Yeah, I kind of have been, actually. Thanks for bein' so concerned."

"It's not a problem. I mean, I was going to ask for you something anyways."

"Oh, really?"

He nods. Everything that she associates with this man is so casual, so nonchalant that she almost doesn't hear him when he asks, "Do you want to go out with me?"

Her mouth drops open. "What?"

"I said, do you want to go out with me?"

It's honestly the first time that such a situation has happened to her. She doesn't know how to react. After a few moments Gintoki just sighs and says, "You know what, just forget about it - "

"Yeah."

"Huh?"

"I'll go out with you."

"All right." He's smiling, and kind of adorable with the way he walks away from her with a skip in his step. He turns back and hollers, "I'll see you this Sunday! There's a showing of Aliens vs. Yakuza 2! I think it'll be great!"

-x-

A month later there are news reporting that the Shinsengumi has finally beheaded Takasugi Shinsuke over four hundred counts of terrorism and murder.

Tsukuyo reads the newspaper and thinks she was lucky to get away from him. It's a regular Sunday at the Yorozuya's house - Kagura is napping on the couch, Shinpachi is sweeping up the dust, and she's agreed to take all of them to go see the aquarium in an hour or so. They've gotten used to her coming over whenever she has free time.

Gintoki drops a kiss on her forehead. "Something wrong?" he asks.

She folds the newspaper and slides it back onto the coffee table.

"Nope," she says, smiling, and leans over to kiss him back.

-x-

_The End_

-x-


End file.
